Chapter 3
My Reason for this is plain;—for as, you see, the _Writer_ of that _Reply_, has taken upon him to invade this _incontested Right_ of another Man’s in a Thing of this Kind, it is high Time for every Man to look to his own—Since, upon the _same Grounds_, and with half the Degree of Anger, that he affirms the Production of that very Reverend Gentleman’s, to be the Child of many Fathers, some one in his Spight (for I am not without my Friends of that Stamp) may run headlong into the other Extream, and swear, That mine had no Father at all:—And therefore, to make use of _Bay_’s Plea in the _Rehearsal_, for _Prince Pretty-Man;_ I merely do it, as he says, “for fear it should be said to be no Body’s Child at all.”
I have only to add two Things:—First, That, at your Peril, you do not presume to alter or transpose one Word, nor rectify one false Spelling, nor so much as add or diminish one Comma or Tittle, in or to my _Romance:_—For if you do,—In case any of the Descendents of _Curl_ should think fit to invade my Copy-Right, and print it over again in my Teeth, I may not be able, in a Court of Justice, to swear strictly to my own Child, after you had _so large a Share_ in the begetting it.
In the next Place, I do not approve of your _quaint Conceit_ at the Foot of the Title Page of my _Romance_,—It would only set People on finding a Page or two before I give them Leave;—and besides, all Attempts either at Wit or Humour, in that Place, are a Forestalling of what slender Entertainment of those Kinds are prepared within: Therefore I would have it stand thus:
YORK: Printed in the Year 1759. (_Price One Shilling_.)
I know you will tell me, That it is set too high; and as a Proof, you will say, That this last _Reply_ to the _Dean_’s _Answer_ does consist of near as many Pages as mine; and yet is all sold for Six-pence.—But mine, my dear Friend, is quite a _different Story:_—It is a Web wrought out of my own Brain, of twice the Fineness of this which he has spun out of his; and besides, I maintain it, it is of a more curious Pattern, and could not be afforded at the Price that his is sold at, by any _honest_ Workman in _Great-Britain_.
Moreover, Sir, you do not consider, That the Writer is interested in his _Story_, and that it is his Business to set it a-going at _any Price:_ And indeed, from the Information of Persons conversant in Paper and Print, I have very good Reason to believe, if he should sell every Pamphlet of them, he would inevitably be a _Great Loser_ by it, This I believe verily, and am,
_Dear Sir_, _Your obliged Friend_ _and humble Servant_, LAURENCE STERNE, Sutton on the Forest, Jan. 20, 1759
To Dr. TOPHAM.
SIR,
Though the _Reply_ to the _Dean_ of _York_ is not declared, in the _Title-Page_, or elsewhere, to be wrote by you,—Yet I take that Point for granted; and therefore beg Leave, in this public Manner, to write to you in Behalf of myself; with Intent to set you right in two Points where I stand concerned in this Affair; and which I find you have misapprehended, and consequently (as I hope) misrepresented.
The _First_ is, in respect of some Words, made use of in the Instrument, signed by Dr _Herring_, Mr _Berdmore_ and myself.—Namely, _to the best of our Remembrance and Belief,_ which Words you have caught hold of, as implying some Abatement of our Certainty as to the Facts therein attested. Whether it was so with the other two Gentlemen who signed that Attestation with me, it is not for me to say; they are able to answer for themselves, and I desire to do so for myself; and therefore I declare to you, and to all Mankind, That the Words in the first Paragraph, _to the best of our Remembrance and Belief_, implied no Doubt remaining upon my Mind, nor any Distrust whatever of my Memory, from the Distance of Time;—Nor, in short, was it my Intention to attest the several Facts therein, as Matters of Belief—But as Matters of as much Certainty as a Man was capable of having, or giving Evidence to. In Consequence of this Explanation of myself, I do declare myself ready to attest the same Instrument over again, striking out the Words _to the best of our Remembrance and Belief_ which I see, have raised this Exception to it.
Whether I was mistaken or no, I leave to better Judges; but I understood those Words were a very common Preamble to Attestations of Things, to which we bore the clearest Evidence;—However, Dr _Topham_, as you have claimed just such another Indulgence yourself, in the Case of begging the _Dean_’s Authority to say, what, as you affirm, you had sufficient Authority to say without, as a modest and Gentleman-like Way of Affirmation;—I wish you had spared either the one or the other of your Remarks upon these two Passages:—_Veniam petimus, demusque vicissim_.
There is another Observation relating to this Instrument, which I perceive has escaped your Notice; which I take the Liberty to point out to you, namely, That the Words, _To the best of our Remembrance and Belief_, if they imply any Abatement of Certainty, seem only confined to that Paragraph, and to what is immediately attested after them in it:—For in the second Paragraph, wherein the main Points are minutely attested, and upon which the whole Dispute, and main Charge against the _Dean_, turns, it is introduced thus:
“_We do particularly remember_, That as soon as Dinner was over, &c.”
In the second Place you affirm, “That it is not said that Mr. _Sterne_ could affirm he had heard you charge the _Dean_ with a Promise, in its own Nature so very extraordinary, as of the Commissaryship of the Dean and Chapter”:—To this I answer, That my true Intent in subscribing that very instrument, and I suppose of others, was to attest this _very Thing;_ and I have just now read that Part of the Instrument over; and cannot, for my Life, affirm it either more directly or expresly, than in the Words as they there stand;—therefore please to let me transcribe them.
“But being press’d by Mr. _Sterne_ with an undeniable Proof, That he, (Dr. _Topham_) did propagate the said Story, (viz: _of a Promise from the Dean to Dr._ Topham _of the Dean and Chapter’s Commissaryship_)—Dr. _Topham_ did at last acknowledge it; adding, as his Reason or Excuse for so doing, That he apprehended (or Words to that Effect) he had a _Promise_ under the _Dean’s own Hand_, of the _Dean and Chapter’s Commissaryship_.”
This I have attested, and what Weight the Sanction of an Oath will add to it, I am willing and ready to give.
As for Mr. _Ricard_’s feeble Attestation, brought to shake the Credit of this firm and solemn one, I have nothing to say to it, as it is only an Attestation of Mr. _Ricard_’s Conjectures upon the Subject.—But this I can say, That I had the Honour to be at the Deanery with the learned Counsel, when Mr. _Ricard_ underwent that _most formidable_ Examination you speak of,—and I solemnly affirm, That he then said, He knew nothing at all about the Matter, one Way or the other; and the Reasons he gave for his utter Ignorance, were, first, That he was then so full of Concern, at the Difference which arose between two Gentlemen, both his Friends, that he did not attend to the Subject Matter of it,—and of which he declared again he knew nothing at all. And secondly, If he had understood it then, the Distance would have put it out of his Head by this Time.
He has since scower’d his Memory, I ween; for now he says, That he apprehended the Dispute regarded something in the Dean’s Gift, as he could not _naturally_ suppose, &c. ’Tis certain, at the Deanery, he had _naturally_ no Suppositions in his Head about this Affair; so that I with this may not prove one of the After-Thoughts you speak of, and not so much a _natural_ as an _artificial_ Supposition of my good Friend’s.
As for the _formidable_ Enquiry you represent him as undergoing,—let me intreat you to give me Credit in what I say upon it,—namely,—That it was as much the Reverse to every Idea that ever was couch’d under that Word, as Words can represent it to you. As for the learned Counsel and myself, who were in the Room all the Time, I do not remember that we, either of us, spoke ten Words. The Dean was the only one that ask’d Mr. _Ricard_ what he remembered about the Affair of the Sessions Dinner; which he did in the most Gentleman-like and candid Manner,—and with an Air of as much Calmness and seeming Indifference, as if he had been questioning him about the News in the last _Brussels Gazette_.
What Mr. _Ricard_ saw to terrify him so sadly, I cannot apprehend, unless the Dean’s _Gothic_ Book-Case,—which I own has an odd Appearance to a Stranger; so that if he came terrified in his Mind there, and with a Resolution not to _plead_, he might _naturally suppose_ it to be a great Engine brought there on purpose to exercise the _Peine fort et dure_ upon him.—But to be serious; if Mr. _Ricard_ told you, That this Enquiry was _most formidable_, He was much to blame;—and if you have said it, without his express Information, then _You_ are much to blame.
This is all, I think, in your _Reply_, which concerns me to answer:—As for the many coarse and unchristian Insinuations scatter’d throughout your _Reply_,—as it is my Duty to beg God to forgive you, so I do from my Heart: Believe me, Dr. _Topham_, they hurt yourself more than the Person they are aimed at; and when the _first Transport_ of Rage is a little over, they will grieve you more too.
—_prima est hæc Ultio_.
But these I hold to be no answerable Part of a Controversy;—and for the little that remains unanswered in yours,—I believe I could, in another half Hour, set it right in the Eyes of the World: But this is not my Business.—And is it is thought worth the while, which I hope it never will, I know no one more able to do it than the very Reverend and Worthy Gentleman whom you have so unhandsomely insulted upon that Score.
As for the _supposed Compilers_, whom you have been so wrath and so unmerciful against, I’ll be answerable for it, as they are Creatures of your own Fancy, they will bear you no Malice. However, I think the more positively any Charge is made, let it be against whom it will, the better it should be supported; and therefore I should be sorry, for your own Honour, if you have not some better Grounds for all you have thrown out about them, than the mere Heat of your Imagination or Anger. To tell you truly, your Suppositions on this Head oft put me in Mind of _Trim_’s twelve Men in _Buckram_, which his disordered Fancy represented as laying in Ambush in _John_ the Clerk’s House, and letting drive at him all together. I am,
SIR, _Your most obedient_ _And most humble Servan_t, LAWRENCE STERNE Sutton on the Forest, Jan. 20, 1759
P.S. I beg Pardon for _clapping_ this upon the _Back_ of the _Romance_,—which is done out of no Disrespect to you.—But the _Vehicle_ stood ready at the Door,—and as I was to pay the whole Fare, and there was Room enough behind it,—it was the cheapest and readiest Conveyance I could think of.
FINIS.